Overnight
by GodzillaGuy92
Summary: Rob's tale was not the only one from that fateful night. Witness the story of case designate "Cloverfield" through the eyes of Linda Weaver - in a way you've never seen before.
1. Entry 1

Well, here I am, writing for the Cloverfield section. Ah, this feels good already. As you can probably tell by my name, I'm a huge monster movie fan, especially Godzilla movies, so it basically goes without saying that I absolutely love Cloverfield.

As I was watching the movie in the theater - or, more probably, after it, because the movie was so mindblowing that watching it took up all conscious thought - I kept thinking, how to write a story about Cloverfield while keeping true to the intimate, noncinematic feel of the film? I knew it couldn't be like a regular story if I wanted to accomplish this, but it obviously couldn't be another "found footage" thing. Then the whole thing would be like, "Bob: 'What's going-' (cut off by monster roar, camera wobbles, sound of jet plane flying past) 'Hey! Joe! Joe! Joe!' Joe: 'What?' (monster roars again, glimpse of a parasite's leg in the corner, camera zooms out of focus, then in focus, then out of focus, then in focus)." Needless to say, that would get real old, real quick. So then it hit me - somebody writing all of it down as it happens! And then the idea started running wild on its own, and the end result: this story! You'll see what I mean shortly.

Now, I know what you're thinking: who's gonna take the time to stop and write all this down even as New York City is being destroyed? While I am going to throw in a few things that will make this more justifiable, I will admit that it's one of the more unbelievable parts of the story that will require a certain suspension of disbelief from you. As I've already demonstrated, it was really the only thing I could do to make this kind of thing work in story-form, after all. Just be glad that you're reading this instead of the adventures of Bob and Joe, and the rest will run smoothly.

I'm also one of the people who have done all the research on the backstory through the viral marketing campaign and whatnot, so I'm going to be making an effort to keep this story as accurate to it as possible. I'm not going to be delving deep into all the stuff with Tagruato or anything (though I'll probably write another story in the future where I do all that stuff - along with some variety of Godzilla vs. Cloverfield, more than likely), since, like the movie, this is supposed to be from the perspective of an regular person from New York - in fact, even though I can't be sure because I haven't planned out this story, I might not even mention any of that stuff - but I'm intending it to fit in with all the official stuff. If any of you noticed, the title was one of the more well-known fake titles before the name "Cloverfield" was released. I probably would have called it _Monstrous_ or something, but that one's taken. The other title I was considering was another of the fake titles, _Furious_, but that didn't fit the premise of the story as much as this one. Back to what I was saying, if any of you see a possible contradiction with the movie or viral marketing ot any of that stuff, please don't hesitate to tell me in a review or PM, because I want this to be as high-quality and as accurate as possible. (However, if you see any typos, you can dismiss them as the fault of the person supposedly writing, not me.)

Alright, enough of this! On with the story! But before I do, I first need to say that I own nothing. That goes for all the rest of the chapters of the story too. This way I don't have to say it over and over again every chapter or specifically list out the things I don't own. So there. That's the only time I have to say it. Now let's _actually_ begin. I hope you guys like it!

* * *

-/- U.S. DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE  
-/ DoD84621469-003  
-/ (DoD (7) 32-17-41) --

-/- DOCUMENT USGX-5704-A169  
-/ MULTIPLE ACCOUNTS OF CASE DESIGNATE "CLOVERFIELD"  
-/ HANDHELD ELECTRONIC DEVICE RETRIEVED AT INCIDENT SITE "US-205"  
-/ AREA FORMERLY KNOWN AS "TIMES SQUARE" --

-/- PROPERTY OF U.S. GOVERNMENT  
-/ CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET - DO NOT DUPLICATE  
-/ VIOLATION MAY RESULT IN LIFE IMPRISONMENT AND/OR A 750,000 FINE  
-/ PRESS **ENTER** TO CONTINUE --

-/- ACCESSING MAINFRAME...  
-/ SUBMIT PASSWORD  
-- PASSWORD: bananaoil  
-/ PRESS **ENTER** TO CONTINUE --

-/- CHECKING PASSWORD...  
-/ PASSWORD ACCEPTED  
-/ RETRIEVING FILE... --

-/- /file: RECORD 003/6-7-09/RIM(BES)/gsm"blackberry"11354/cloverfield5704a169.doc  
-/ U.S. PENTAGON - ACCESSED THROUGH PUBLIC WEBSITE "FANFICTION. NET" - STATUS: UNDER SURVEILLANCE  
-/ SOURCE: GSM "BLACKBERRY" (SERIES 8700)  
-/ ORIGINAL OWNER: IDENTIFIED AS LINDA S. WEAVER (CIVILIAN, LOCAL RESIDENT)  
-/ RECOVERED: JUNE 7, 2009 (DURING POST-INCIDENT SWEEP OF SITE 205; SEE ATTACHED FILES)  
-/ PRESS **ENTER** TO CONTINUE --

* * *

My name is Linda Weaver. I live in Manhattan. It's between maybe 12:30 and 12:45 in the morning. Something has just happened. Something big. I don't know what it is, but I can tell.

I was just sitting on my couch, munching on a bag of chips and watching TV, when all the sudden the apartment building rocked as if an earthquake had struck as the lights sputtered and went out and a muffled, low-pitched noise grated roughly through the air. For a few terrifying seconds, I was plunged in near-total darkness - something that, even if you turn out all your lights yourself and close your blinds, does _not_ happen in the middle of New York City. For one moment, I literally thought that I had somehow gone blind. It took a few moments for me to realize that the entire city had apparently lost power. At that moment, the lights flickered back on, and I sat in silence for a few seconds before reason kicked in and I turned the TV back on to find out what had just happened. No doubt it would be all over the news instantly.

My thoughts proved correct; after mere seconds of staring at a blank screen - the news station had seemingly lost power as well - I was rewarded with the face of Roma Torre from NY1. She's practically everything I want to be - namely, a successful and well-known reporter. It's probably that same reporter-style instinct that's causing me to type all this out on my BlackBerry, of all things to do in this situation. Even in the midst of what was going on, her voice was as calm as any other time and she betrayed no sign of any nervousness. Truly an artist at work. I listened as she talked.

"Breaking news from NY1. Something strange is happening in the city tonight. There is no official word as of yet, but some are speculating that we're in the midst of another terrorist attack. Phone calls are pouring into the NY1 newsroom as a thunderous roaring sound emanates from the harbor approximately fifteen minutes after word..." she paused to look down at her notes, "of a _possible_ earthquake in lower Manhattan. Nearby, in New York Harbor, we're getting word of an oil tanker capsizing in the middle of the harbor, near the Statue of Liberty. Once again, there's no way to know if any of this is connected..."

At that point, even my respect for the work of Roma Torre gave way to my own instincts. The Statue of Liberty was visible, barely, from the balcony of my apartment room. I went outside and leaned over the edge, searching for any sign of what was going on. Judging from the voices coming from below me, I could tell that I wasn't the only one trying to figure out what was happening. I squinted at the water, looking for a sign of the sunken oil tanker or anything else unusual. I spotted something, an amorphous, fiery glow near the shore. The orange light lit up thick plumes of smoke that rose to the sky.

"Hey, Linda!"

I looked down a level, to the right, to find my best friend Kelly looking back up at me from her own balcony. She was wearing her overlarge t-shirt and pajama pants that she slept in, and her eyes bore the unmistakable crusty look of sleepiness - the shockwave or earthquake or whatever it was had apparently woken her up - yet, at the same time, I could tell that she was also feeling as frantic as I was.

"Kelly! Have you been watching the news?"

She shook her head. "What's going on?"

"I don't know. They're saying that it might be an earthquake, and a boat sunk." I purposely left out the possibility of a terrorist attack - that idea made my skin crawl just to think about, and I had no desire to resort to that explanation until it was actually proven. Reporter instincts or no.

"Sunk? In the harbor?" I nodded. She turned her gaze to the water for a moment before looking back at me. "Can you see anything?"

"Yeah. Look right by the-"

My words caught in my throat. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I couldn't do anything but stare at the figure standing motionless in the middle of the water, illuminated by the flames billowing up from the capsized ship.

The Statue of Liberty's head was missing.

Ever since I had moved to this apartment, I had gotten used to the sight of Lady Liberty standing in the water, gazing over the city with her tablet clutched to her chest and her torch held high, her proud, chiseled face staring confidently into the city she guarded. To me, she had always been there, whatever the history books said, an everlasting guardian of the city, the enduring symbol that life would last safely for the city's denizens. And her head was... gone. Just like that. It shook me to the core, and immediately I knew that whatever was happening, it wasn't anything like an earthquake. This is something huge. Something monstrous.

"Linda? What is it?"

Somehow, I found it in me to look back down at Kelly. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to make myself tell her. But I couldn't bring myself to. Because if I said it, even though I could see it clearly, that would make it real, absolute, irreversible.

Regardless, I never even had the chance. I felt the ground shake again as a loud noise almost like a crackling _pop_ snapped through the air to my right, accompanied by a renewed outbreak of frenzied gasps and screams from the neighbors. I turned to the direction of the sound, only to be greeted by a huge explosion erupting from behind the Manhattan Municipal Building. It emitted a high-pitched _whoosh_ as it mushroomed upward, expanding in all directions and engulfing the buildings around it. Small chunks of ignited concrete - or they could have been cars, for all I know - were blasted high into the air, detonating at the peaks of their arcs like fireworks.

That was when I knew I needed to leave. Now.

Not giving a thought to the fact that all that I had on was my own sleeping clothes, I sprinted out of my room, down the building's stairs, and into the street. A panicked crowd was already thundering down the road. I'm in it right now as I type this into my PDA. Kelly's beside me. People all around are talking, their voices merging into each other to create a constant, unintelligible background noise, only occasionally punctuated by clear words like, "It's another terrorist attack!" or, "Did you hear that _noise_?"

I can feel the vibration of all the feet pounding into the ground running up through my legs. There's something else too, something... out of sync. Once every few seconds or so, it's as if there's a quick burst of especially powerful shaking for just a moment, then it stops, only to repeat itself again a couple seconds later.

As if they're the footsteps of some impending leviathan.

* * *

Well, not a bad start, eh? Yes? No? Anyone? Please?

As you might be able to see, I've put some care and research into writing this fic. For example, you might notice that I said the explosion was _behind_ the Manhattan Municipal Building, when in the movie the building is to the left. According to my research, if someone was looking from a place where they'd be able to see the Statue of Liberty from their balcony, their view of the Manhattan Municipal Building would place it between themselves and the explosion. Also, Roma Torre is the real name of the reporter from the movie, both in the movie and in real life, since she guest starred as herself. That sort of thing.

As you also may have noticed, I've also taken a few slight liberties, if you could call them that (no, the pun was not intentional - lower the brick slowly). I've looked at the teaser trailer for reference as well as the movie itself. If you compare the two, you can see that the news dialogue is different and you can hear the roar when the lights go out in the teaser, whereas it's just a big crash in the movie. Since Linda's first impulse was to turn it to the news, I combined the two pieces of NY1 dialogue and added my own beginning to make it more complete. Also, since she's closer to the Statue than Rob was, I made it so that she would be able to hear the roar. So it fits both the teaser trailer and the movie, in a way. Another thing is the whole governmental message that starts it off. The seemingly random numbers and stuff are actually either the same as or closely related to those that appear before the movie - I've checked - and I also kept a lot of the same kind of stuff it says in there, but I put in modifications where needed, considering that this is not found footage, but found writing; for example, I changed "MULTIPLE **SIGHTINGS** OF CASE DESIGNATE 'CLOVERFIELD'" to "MULTIPLE **ACCOUNTS** OF CASE DESIGNATE 'CLOVERFIELD.'" To tell you the truth, this is probably the only instance where I'll be doing that kind of thing, because basically everything included in the teaser trailer that Linda gets to see happen was just covered, and I'm obviously not gonna repeat the governmental message before every chapter.

Also, I'm assuming here that BlackBerries have the ability to save documents. I don't have one, nor do I know anyone with one that I could use for reference. If one of you has one and/or knows that it doesn't have this ability, please exclude it from the earlier comment saying to point out any mistakes. It's the only plot device that will work - she obviously wouldn't be carrying around a laptop computer with her and sitting down with it and start typing while New York's being trashed around her. Just letting you guys know.

Please review!


	2. Entry 2

I bet you guys thought I had abandoned this story, didn't you? Well then, you were wrong, weren't you? _Wrong! _

Okay, end of the frenzied excuse for an introduction. But the wait time for this chapter is pretty standard for me, so it'd probably be best to get used to it. Still, it's not like I'd give up on a story that got _ten reviews_ for just the first chapter - that's the best opening chapter for a non-sequel that I've ever had. And, for whatever of my usual readers from the Godzilla section might be reading this (I know you're out there...), sorry for telling you a bunch of stuff you already know. Though it may be of interest to you that I stayed up till six in the morning to get this chapter finished, so... you're welcome.

Also, do any of you remember me saying last chapter that I was assuming that the Cloverfield event took place on January 18 and Rob's camera just got the date wrong? Well, one of my readers - **Rinse and Repeat**, unless I'm mistaken - pointed out to me that Rob himself said to the camera at the end of the movie that it was May 23. So I went back and took out all references to it being in January. Just so you guys know.

You guys might also be pleased to know that this chapter is also much longer than the last one. Even though Chapter 1 was 2,500 words, a fairly modest length, I'm pretty sure about half of that was Author's Notes. Not so here. Although if I don't stop ranting soon, maybe that statement won't be true much longer, so I'm gonna leave you guys here. Your turn, Linda!

* * *

It was just after I finished typing the last entry that it happened.

The small rumbling caused by the feet of the moving crowd suddenly started to intensify. Kelly grabbed me by the arm to stop me from moving forward, and I looked around, partially expecting the cause of it to be that the crowd had for some reason started running. On the contrary, however, the majority of the people had stopped walking as well, their eyes searching the sky above them to the ground beneath their feet and everywhere between for the cause of the anomaly.

The shaking continued on for nearly ten straight seconds, increasing steadily in intensity all the while. It had easily reached earthquake-level strength before, just as abruptly as it began, it dropped off and faded away, leaving nothing behind but a few flickering streetlamps and a stunned silence from the crowd.

The people began talking again all at once, instantly becoming far more frantic in their manners of speech than before. An even more dramatic shift was evident in their body language. Some of them took up an uneasy fast walk; others, namely those who weren't with anybody they needed to look after, simply broke into an all-out sprint. The direction of the source of the earthquake, as I decided to call it for lack of a more accurate term,was, of course, completely undetectable - nevertheless, this didn't stop some of the more panicked of the crowd's members to turn and move resolutely the opposite direction. As I walked, I moved past a man and a woman, presumably husband and wife, who were locked in a vertical tug-of-war struggle over which way they would proceed. A few people were apparently so lost as far as which way to go was concerned that they had gone over to the side of the street to talk about it among themselves, decided to stand completely still to seemingly wait for the proper choice to become more clear, or even gone back inside their homes.

Kelly nudged my arm about a minute later, and I turned to look at her.

"What is it?" she said.

"What is what?" I replied absently, a rather large portion of my mind still on the image of the decapitated Statue of Liberty.

"That." When I gave her a confused look, she continued: "You're being so... quiet."

"And?" I prompted, more for purposes of stalling my involvement in the conversation than anything.

"_And, _Ms. Star Reporter, I happen to know after five years of experience with you that quiet and withdrawn isn't your style. Even if you are busy typing on that thing." She waved her hand distractedly at my BlackBerry.

"Did you ever think I might have been shaken by the earthquake and city-wide power outage that followed? Or maybe the subsequent explosion right in the middle of Manhattan? Or that maybe I was busy wondering what all this could be?"

"Doesn't seem to be bothering them," she answered without hesitation, gesturing to the moving crowd. The fact that she had to project her voice at me even when we were right next to each other underlined her point. I gave a noncommittal shrug to hide the fact that some part of my mind was numbly thinking something along the lines of, _Why does she have to know me so well?_

Never one for patience, Kelly didn't wait for another comment by me to continue the conversation. "You still haven't answered my question. What's got you so rattled?"

I clicked my tongue a few times, a sign that I was thinking, to keep her temporarily off my back. As far as I could tell from the constant drone of the moving crowd, not a lot of other people other than me had seen the Statue's condition, and I wasn't eager to be the first to break the news to her.

_'Break the news'. _Part of me must have a much higher than average enjoyment of cruel irony, because it sneered at me maliciously at the thought. _And to think you want to be a reporter someday, even though you can't even tell your own best friend about that one detail._

_Shut up,_ I told the voice. _I don't need this._

_Oh yes you do,_ it answered smoothly. _It's the instinct of journalism calling, and you know it. Why else are you taking it to heart that you need to document whatever it is that's happening here?_

I pondered this for a few moments, realized that it was right, and tried my best to turn myself resolute toward the idea. I turned back to Kelly, only for a significant percent of the private bravado to disappear now that it was faced with the possibility of going through with telling her.

Inwardly preparing to make myself sound more confident about it than I felt, I was drawing the breath to tell her when she suddenly frowned, sniffed the air, and said, "Wait a sec. Do you smell that?"

I didn't notice anything at first - it had always seemed that her senses were sharper than mine, a fact that irritated my inner reporter. But after a few seconds of inhaling deeply, I did notice something on the wind. Even that small whiff of it made me want to cough; it smelled like an about-even mixture of smoke, ash, and dust. Several other people now seemed to have noticed the smell too, whether by themselves or because they had overheard Kelly pointing it out. Soon, it seemed that everyone in a twenty-foot radius was sniffing the air and muttering anxiously to their respective companions about the smell. The farther forward I walked, the stronger the choking odor became.

More were choosing to turn back now, and they were beginning to get directly in the other peoples' way, like two stones grinding together. Kelly and I weaved our way to the side of the street, where the resistance was less thick, and trudged forward.

It occurred to me that I had no idea where I was going, or even why I was doing it. I tended to require reasons for things (something that had gotten me in trouble more than once when I was younger and questioned my parents' orders), so the absence of one at such a crucial moment was, to say the least, troubling.

But then my mind strayed again to the sight of the Statue of Liberty, and my doubts of having a reason were obliterated - I didn't know the reason I was walking, but I did know that the reason, whatever it was, was an _extremely_ good one.

It began to get harder to move forward. At first, as my vision was obstructed by a few dozen moving bodies, I thought that a large group of people had decided to turn around. Then, as I got closer, I saw a cluster of people gathered around the base next intersection, looking at one of the streets and conversing fearfully with each other. Grabbing Kelly by the wrist, I squeezed through the crowd until I was able to get a good look down the street.

At first I didn't see anything, though I immediately noticed that the smell hit me with a new intensity as soon as I stepped out from behind the corner of the building. Then, as I looked farther down the street, I saw it: A large cloud of brownish dust that obscured my view of everything beyond a few more blocks. Even as I watched, it continued to creep along the ground, spreading itself out in all directions as it snaked between the buildings.

A few people had broken away from the flow of the crowd and were heading toward the cloud, apparently to check it out, while the majority of the people had picked up their pace in the exact opposite direction. For a brief moment, I pondered what I should do - stay away from the potential danger and keep moving ahead, or go possibly risk my life on the chance to find out what was happening.

No question.

Only halfheartedly making an attempt to yank Kelly along with me, I broke out into a frenzied sprint in the direction of the dust cloud. I heard her cry of, "What the - Linda, get back here!" but it was as if the words entered my head and bounced around a little, leaving only a vague impression, before exiting again.

It was only when I felt a tight, familiar grip clamp down on my forearm that I stopped and turned around. Kelly leaned on me halfway for a moment as she caught her breath, then gave me a look somewhere between exasperation and ferocity.

I was already moving again by the time she spoke, forcing her to keep pace beside me."Are you out of your mind?" She said it as if it was an actual concern. I ignored her, focusing on moving forward.

By this point we had entered the cloud, and now she was pausing every five seconds or so to cough. "I don't get it, Lind! What is it that's-" _cough,_ "making you act so weird?"

"I... saw something," I murmured distractedly, still moving at a half-run. I glanced hurriedly at both sides of the street whenever I moved past an intersection, trying to catch a glimpse of... something. Anything.

"Okay," Kelly went on, stifling another cough. "And what did you see?"

I very well might have answered her, if not for the fact that the unspeakable sight that beheld me when I looked down Broadway robbed me of all ability to speak.

Kelly made a strangled noise that might have been an attempt to gasp.

"Oh... my..."

Her voice trailed off; apparently, finishing the sentence with "God" wouldn't have done her feelings justice.

The entire street was completely decimated. Large chunks of concrete, seemingly blown off of the surrounding buildings, littered the ground. Some had landed on parked cars with enough force to crush their hoods and start fires in their engines on impact. There were some small fires in other places too, and the dust caused the air around them to glow like neon lights. Most of the windows at ground level were broken, providing the ground with a covering of sharp glass. A small amount of people were scattered about the scene, covering their mouths with their sleeves as they coughed or sitting on the curb and staring at the ground with a singularly haunted expression.

And in the center of the street, as if to complete this picture of apocalypse, was the head of the Statue of Liberty.

It looked like it had been forcefully ripped off by something, from the ragged look of its neck. The back half of it was dented flat, as if it had hit something with great force, or had been hit with something with great force. It laid on its side, its eyes staring blankly up the street. The spikes on her crown were either bent at odd angles or missing entirely. The face looked charred, and it was pockmarked with a small series of large holes, almost like the marks left by teeth or fingernails.

I found myself walking up to it, as if it would turn out to be a mirage and disappear if I got close enough. Instead, the terrible details became clearer and clearer as I moved forward, until I was standing directly in front of it.

_'It'._ Funny how I immediately stopped using "she" once I had seen what had become of what had, less than an hour ago, been a symbol of this country's triumphs. _And now look what had become of all that._ Part of me almost wanted to get angry... only I was too scared to be angry. My hand, as if of its own accord, reached up and touched the cold metal. I silently begged for a sign of reassurance. But the face continued to stare past me, unknowing and uncaring of my torment.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I didn't have to turn to see that it was Kelly. She was staring up at the head too, and her eyes were clearly filled with just as much fear as was inside me.

"What do you think?" Her voice sounded faint, as if only half of her consciousness was with me. "You think it's the terrorists?"

I shook my head firmly. "Worse." For that much I knew.

I turned away from the head and looked back up the street. Much of the same thing greeted me: destruction and death. Suddenly, I felt myself frown. There was something about the picture I was missing... some detail I wasn't noticing. I knew it was there, whatever it was, but I couldn't put my finger on it. As my eyes roved over the scene, trying to figure out what was out of place, I spotted an enormous pile of rubble that completely blocked the street where the Woolworth Building-

Of course. That explained the huge dust cloud; the Woolworth Building was gone.

Or, more specifically, had been reduced to the heap of shattered stone I was looking at.

At this point, my knees began to buckle, and I barely made it to the curb before they collapsed beneath me entirely. I hunched over so that I was on all fours, fighting to keep my breathing deep and steady. My head swam, my vision blurred, and wave after wave of nausea crashed into me so that I had to make a constant physical effort not to vomit. My forehead felt as if there was a cold rush of wind blowing against it, but that it was so warm that the air only made it feel like it was about to burst.

After a few minutes of gasping for air and keeping the contents of my stomach firmly _inside_ my stomach, I straightened back up and regained my composure. Apparently seeing that I was alright, Kelly came over and sat down beside me.

"Feeling better?"

I nodded, not looking at her. Maybe as far as my physical condition was concerned. But otherwise? No, "feeling better" was the farthest thing possible from accurately describing how I was doing.

"Come on, then," she said, helping me to my feet.

"Come on?" I said, puzzled. "Come on where?"

She gave me a stern look. "Well, you don't really think we're just gonna stay here, do you? Come on, we're going to the Brooklyn Bridge. Everyone's saying that's the best place to go."

_Leaving Manhattan? _The idea sounded oddly foreign to me. The thought had never entered my mind that this grand city could ever be attacked so seriously that all its people would be forced to leave. Not even after 9/11.

But then I looked back down the street, where the Statue of Liberty's head was now serving as a monument for the truth of that possibility, and my doubts left me instantly. Whatever this was, it was definitely serious enough to abandon the city. I gave Kelly a grim nod, stood up, and started walking.

And that's what I'm doing now. Things throughout the city aren't looking much better than what I saw on Broadway. It seems like there's an almost linear trail of destruction, which our path has been unfortunate enough to intersect more than once. Chunks of buildings scattered on the streets, cars upturned, fires eating away at the few places otherwise untouched... It really doesn't look at all like it could be terrorists.

As I was typing, somebody ran up to me and started pleading at me frantically in another language. When I couldn't help, he gave an anguished sob and moved on to somebody else. My stomach twisted in what I now recognize as pity. I witnessed similar incidents happening around me.

But maybe my part in this was about to end. Once I made it out of Manhattan, perhaps this nightmare would come to a close.

This might have been a comforting thought... if only the terrified sensation at the pit of my stomach would leave.

* * *

So, was that good? Did I do a good job of describing what the experience might have been like on an emotional level? Quite frankly, I'm not entirely sure - as I said, a large part of this chapter was written when I probably should have been asleep instead, so perhaps my writing suffered for it? I hope not, but that part's up to you to decide.

Like the last chapter, there was a surprising amount of research I had to put in this chapter as far the the layout of New York is concerned. All the stuff concerning the relative locations of Broadway and the Woolworth Building - as well as finding out that those were the names of the street the Statue's head landed on and the building that first collapsed, respectively - required quite a bit of digging to find, not to mention how someone would get there from Linda's location. Again, that's the kind of thing you'd never think about as you were reading - in fact, I wouldn't really be surprised if one of you went back specifically to look for it and didn't see anything - but it gives the story more legitimacy.

Also, you might have noticed that in the movie, the stuff with the Statue's head and the Woolworth Building happens pretty shortly after the explosion, whereas in here an good amount of time seems to pass before they feel the vibrations from the building collapsing. Here are my excuses: One, if you notice, Hud turns the camera off shortly after they run out into the street, then turns it back on shortly before the Statue's head flies in. We have no idea how long the camera was off - it could have just been a few seconds, or could could have been ten minutes, for all we know. Two, given the distance between Linda's location and Hud's the vibrations the Woolworth Building's crash made probably took a little while to reach her. Three, Linda is a very fast typer with a quick mind (something I'll make more of an effort to explain later in the story). Besides, I kept in mind that even with all that, it's not like she'd be able to get to the Statue's head in time to encounter Rob and the others before they left to go to the Brooklyn Bridge as well, which is why I didn't mention there being someone with a camera or something like that.

So, that about does it for this chapter. Please review!


End file.
